Invisible Ink
by SineTimore
Summary: There was supposed to be a tattoo, but...


**Disclaimer: **I have no right to claim anything.

**AN:** Thanks, as always, for all of your kind words of support.

* * *

_**Invisible Ink**_

She watched him quietly from the doorway as he twisted his muscles and reached to the floor beside the bed for his discarded boxer shorts. The privacy of her apartment and the warm summer evening afforded her the luxury of moving about the place with bare skin; her willowy body covered only in a glistening layer of perspiration, evidence of their recent enthusiastic bedroom play. Sounds of the city below whispered through the screen of her bedroom window, as the early June breeze inspired the airy curtains hanging there to sway gently. Her grip on the tumbler of ice water she'd offered to collect tightened in reaction to her current view of his naked body. She had been gone just moments, yet she longed for it again, thoroughly and absolutely.

A frigid drop from the outside of the glass found its way to the exposed skin of her breast and it shocked her to attention with an audible gasp. He pivoted his neck awkwardly to locate the origin of the unexpected sound, the silk garment retrieved from the floor now clutched in his hand. "Hey," he said with quiet but obvious contentment at the vision of her before him, as he directed his right leg towards its corresponding hole.

"Stop," she insisted, her voice causing him to freeze mid-motion. She moved leisurely across the room to the bed, offering him the well-earned glass of water upon arrival. "You won't be needing those," she assured him, her hand outstretched in unspoken demand.

His throat fell immediately dry from the promise incited by her words, the liquid now more a necessity than a welcome relief. "You're bossy when you're on vacation, Detective," he teased, placing the half-empty glass on the nightstand and handing her the article of clothing as silently instructed.

"Number one, a suspension is hardly vacation, Castle," she corrected, pushing his thigh aside to make room for her own. "Number two, all of your emphatic yeses earlier certainly gave the impression that you were more than fine with my bossy. Would I be correct in that assumption?" she asked in lascivious tone as she tossed the shorts back to the floor and crawled intently onto his uncovered lap.

"Well," he paused, as she positioned her warm middle against his, "I suppose that doesn't really require an answer anymore, now does it?" His hands braced her hips and pulled her firmly closer. "Feeling is believing, I'd say."

"I love the way you feel," she whispered burningly, her mouth nearly touching his. "And, yes, this is _very _compelling evidence. It could be the _big_ break that I've been looking for." Her eyes met his and she went for his lips, hard and insistent. He reciprocated her every action with fervor, his fingernails white from the force of his hold on her body. She tickled his lips with a sudden moan of approval and it raced through him like fire. Without breaking from her mouth, he flipped her onto her back as his tongue continued its dance with hers.

Their bodies rolled and tangled together in the cool sheets, their palpable desire filling the room like a bright light. He wanted more, more of her warm skin and her delicate sighs of pleasure. He wanted to catalogue every inch of her, visit and revisit all of the places she now reserved only for his exploration.

His warm tongue trailed and circled, tasted and teased, left her in a frenzy of want and need. "Rick," she breathed, "please…I want you to fu-"

"You know, Detective, I was just thinking," he interrupted with a hint of knowing amusement, his mouth now glistening in the vee of her legs.

She raised her head from the flat of the mattress, her well-defined abdominal muscles coming to her aid. "Seriously? You're thinking _now_?" she hissed, wholly exasperated.

"Yes, that's right. Due to my methodical and thorough trip over, under, across and around your body this evening," he licked his lips, "it suddenly dawned on me that you owe me an explanation."

"I can't possibly imagine what the hell for, Castle, and, as always, your timing is…" Her voice trailed off as his tongue glided gently along her center. He grinned out of her sight and pushed her thigh upwards for the access he most wanted.

"God, don't ever stop doing that," she pleaded.

"Careful what you wish for, Bossy Beckett. I have a lot of money, and a lot of money means I have a lot of time on my hands. Now, speaking of hands…" he uttered, before swiping his thumb over her heat, causing her body to shiver. "As I had started to say, I'm trying to understand why you would tell me that you had a tattoo when, in fact, you clearly don't. I've investigated this entire delicious (_lick_), extraordinary (_lick_), exquisite (_lick_) body of yours many, _many _times now and there's no ink to be found." His finger applied the slightest of pressure, as her hand grabbed desperately at his rumpled hair. "Care to explain?"

She arched into him on the verge of shattering completely. "If…_fuck_…if you want me to answer, you're going to have to stop doing that," she implored.

"I'm sorry, Detective, but didn't you just order me to never stop doing this?" he retorted, continuing the action despite her emphatic request. "I could have sworn that you did. I'm a very (_lick_) good (_lick_) listener (_lick_). I was most certainly all ears when you told me about your alleged tattoo."

He granted her a brief reprieve from the relentless attention of his skilled tongue and talented fingers and slid slowly up her body, his hands on either side of her, supporting his weight above her. Her nails traced gentle lines up and down his chest as her hunger for him intensified. "Well, Castle, I suppose that sometimes I give you what you want to get what I want. And, what I wanted at that time…what I want _now_," she professed with a roll of her hips against his, "was to get a rise out of you. Kinda seems like it worked too," she whispered.

"Wow. I had no idea that you had such cruelty in you," he huffed in feigned outrage, his body now entirely flat against hers. "Although…" he thought aloud against the sweet scent of her neck.

"Mmmm," she hummed as both an inquiry and a commentary on the sensation of his breath against her skin.

"This does leave me a blank canvas on which to leave my own very special mark, I suppose. You see, Detective, in addition to being a very good listener," he raised his eyes to hers, "I'm also quite skilled in finding silver linings," he remarked most pleased.

"Well," she replied, rolling him onto his back and straddling him hastily, "I'm going to need some samples of your work before I make any permanent decisions, you understand- many, many, samples," she purred, each word punctuated with a kiss. "Time to get your artist's tools ready, Castle," she commanded, dragging her tongue over his lips.

"I do so enjoy your bossy," he sighed, his mouth on hers without another word.


End file.
